


Bite the Poisoned Apple

by GraveTiger



Series: Haikyuu Yakuza [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dark Bokuto Koutarou, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drinking, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind the Tags, Murder, Omega Akaashi Keiji, Possessive Behavior, References to Drugs, Smoking, Stockholm Syndrome, first kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveTiger/pseuds/GraveTiger
Summary: He'd heard whispers of the 'Great Horned Owl' before..Nothing could have prepared him for how truly terrifying the mob boss is.Or how deep he'd fall...
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Haikyuu Yakuza [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042374
Comments: 28
Kudos: 369





	Bite the Poisoned Apple

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Akaashi!! You're lucky number one on this trip :D

“Your grades will be posted online next week. Be safe going home everyone!”

Keiji had his books already into his bag and he slipped out of his seat before most of the class. He mixed with the goofballs on the way out, keeping his head down to avoid the chatter but who were too invested in some dorm prank to pay much attention to him. One Alpha did call after him, but he was ignored as Keiji made his way down the hall.

It was his last class of the semester and winter break was starting as of tomorrow. He didn’t have plans other than to work and mess around with his manga-in-progress. There was no point in going home this year. His mother was in the Carribean with the pool boy and his dad was off trying to spend as much money as he could before the inevitable divorce. Keiji told himself he didn’t care… that their marriage had been one arrangement between families and a prenup short of a sham and he’d seen it coming since he was like twelve.

He _supposed_ he should go back to the house and gather what he wanted from it before it was all sold or trashed. The idea of stepping foot in there though wasn’t a pleasant one. The maid was nasty and the cook seemed to always be high or something. He wasn’t sure why his parents had kept any of the staff at the house… well he knew now why the pool boy was still around but that's besides the point.

Nah…

It was all more effort than it was worth.

Almost as much effort as going across campus.

If he did better in a non school setting, he would’ve just taken online classes. The energy needed to get through a day was draining… and he still had work tonight. He was exhausted already… Thankfully his shift at the bar didn’t start for awhile and he could just go take a quick nap… or maybe finish up the latest panel.

Neither of those happened and he couldn’t bring himself to care. A picture for his mother and boytoy had sparked an upheaval in the family text group and he had to fend off calls from various cousins for over an hour before he finally sent off a polite but biting text reply to all of them, telling them he wasn’t involved and not to ask him questions.

He showed up to work two minutes before his shift started and stashed his stuff before slipping behind the bar to grab whatever he needed to take orders. Most of the faces were recognized as regulars with the normal amount of unknowns interspersed. He went through the motions, grabbing the easy drinks and passing off the harder ones to the actual bartender, Kirito, to make unless he was too busy in which case Keiji just did them the best he could himself. He wasn’t the best at it, but he’d been learning for the last month or so and hadn’t gotten too many complaints for the ones he’d mixed himself and served.

The night progressed as they usually did. He’d only slapped away a few wandering hands trying to get too friendly with his ass. A couple of guys showed up and went for the back and a few minutes later, two different guys left from the same door. It’d been like that for a few weeks now. Keiji had no idea what went on back there… and didn’t care enough to figure it out. He just wanted to get the night over with and go home. A couple of the other serves finished up and left, leaving three of them plus Kirito and the owner, Mr. Hoshino, who’d finally come out of his office and was appareasing the more sloshed of the patrons.

It was getting close to midnight when the door opened and four guys came in. They all must’ve had _some kind of_ late night at the office because they were all in suits. One was stupid tall with silver hair while another one was really short. The other two were more or less unremarkable other than their aura which was… well they’d gotten the people’s attention.

The door opened again and a fifth guy sauntered in. The long coat he’d been wearing like a cape, as any asshole did, was shrugged off and caught by one of the guys. He was tall with bad hair. The shiny red material of his tie and dress shirt shimmered eerily in the low light.

Was it a fashion statement to have something in red?

Because Keiji realized that they **all** did.

Well… all but one.

That one wore a black suit and a distinctly _yellow_ tie.

Keiji thought it was weird.

The bar owner fell over himself to get the table at the back cleared out, the group who’d just been there having vacated when the bad hair guy showed up. Mr. Comb Head approached said table with his guys behind him. Not all of them looked around… mostly just the really tall guy and the really short one. They sat down, well the seeming leader did and the guy with the yellow tie.

“Anything in particular that I can get for you gentlemen tonight?” Mr. Hoshino sounded particularly nervous.

“Drinks of course,” the one with bad hair replied with a smirk, “and a word if you don’t mind.”

The owner and gestured wildly at Keiji, “ _Drinks. Let’s go_!”

Keiji fought to not roll his eyes. Was he supposed to know what these guys wanted just off the top of his head? Or was he supposed to guess? They all seemed like top shelf people but they could be vodka people just as easily as they could be bourbon people and he didn’t really want to get it wrong.

So he grabbed a few bottles, enough glasses for all of them and some ice, intent on giving them tableside service just to cover everything.

“What is this?” the one guy grinned and elbowed the guy with a yellow tie, “Private service eh?”

“Mm,” the other guy merely eyed him a bit. The scent of Alpha was _strong_ over here. Keiji was… uncomfortable.

“What can I get you?”

Bad Hair merely gave a dangerous smirk, staring Keiji down, “Whatever you _think_ we would like to drink.”

The really tall guy with silver hair piped up, “I would like-”

“Shut up!” the leader’s smirk slipped a little to glare at his associate before looking back at Keiji and gesturing for him to continue.

Keiji fought not to react at all… He wasn’t paid enough for this. Instead he stared at each in turn, noting where eyes flicked to on his tray, before picking up bottles and pouring a mixture of drinks and passing them out. Apparently he didn’t do too bad because only one made a face and a couple shrugged as though it wasn’t their first pick but it was close enough.

“Impressive,” Bad Hair smirked behind his glass of whiskey, “Sit.”

“Mr. Kuroo-” the owner started.

Golden-hazel eyes that looked unnervingly like a cat’s, slowly blinked at the Beta, “I tell him to sit, he sits… or did you forget how this works, Hoshino?”

“N-no! Of course not!”

“Good. Then you’d better sit too… We have business to _discuss_ with you.”

The hackles on the back of Keiji's neck rose a bit. Mr. Hoshino plunked down next to him, already sweating. He gave a slight wave and Kirito cleared the room, getting the others out of the bar and flipped the sign to ‘closed’ before shutting the door behind him.

Bad Hair spread his hands over the bottles, the rings on his right middle and ring fingers glinting in the light, “Pick your poison.”

Just what the fuck walked into this bar?

“Y-you chose, Sir,” Hoshino stuttered.

The smile faded a little as Bad Hair slowly stood and walked around the table to the bar. Yellow Tie just sat there, holding his glass of bourbon. Comb Head prowled behind the bar for a moment before grabbing three bottles and a lemon and walked back. Keiji recognized one of them as one of their cheapest bottles, barely above piss honestly. Bad Hair sat down again with another smug grin and poured the cheap bottle into a glass and pushed it toward Hoshino who accepted it as though it were something served to the Emperor.

“Tell me,” Mr. Hair said casually as he started pouring from the other two bottles, “Do you have family in the area?”

“No sir,” Keiji replied.

“No one to miss you for the holidays?”

“No sir,” that somehow felt like a mistake… but he couldn’t very well ignore the man either.

“Mm,” he pulled a knife from inside his jacket, sliced the lemon and squeezed one half into the glass, “That’s a shame,” he reached into his jacket again and pulled a small flask, “I noticed you’re out of cognac, Hoshino,” and tipped it into the glass. He gave it a few swirls and set it in front of Keiji, “You’ll forgive my less than stellar drink mixing I’m sure.”

Keiji offered a bow of the head and gripped it with both hands.

“A toast,” he raised his glass with a smirk, “to… turning a new leaf.”

Glasses were drunk and the guys behind Bad Hair grabbed the bottles to refill. Keiji tries to not make a face at the poorly mixed drink. The first sip is mostly lemon juice and the next is pure alcohol. He _thinks_ he can see what the man was going for… it just needs a shaker and some crushed ice.

“Wha-What brings you to my bar, Mr. Kuroo?” Mr. Hoshino asked after an uncomfortably long silence.

“Sources tell me that you’ve been selling out of the basement again,” Mr. Kuroo says after a moment, His tone flippant, “ _Copious_ amounts at that. Now I wouldn’t mind if it was my product you were moving, seeing as this _is_ my territory. I wouldn’t even mind you selling The Owl’s, given our relationship… but it’s not… is it,” the Alpha’s eyes flashed, "and the amount you've been dealing has put a dent into not only _my_ profits… but **also** the Owl's..." his tone dropped, "We both know what happens when someone like _you_ costs us money."

“You don’t understand, Mr. Kuroo! They had my parents! They said their house was on redrawn lines and that I owed them protection money for their house!”

“And it never occurred to you that you should have contacted us to see if it was even true?” Mr. Kuroo seemed genuinely confused.

“I didn’t have time. I agreed to it or they took the bar from me.”

“Where are they?” Yellow Tie asked, the first thing he’s said all night.

The bar owner glances behind the bar at that one door.

“How many?”

“Th-three… last I knew… They come and go…”

Mr. Kuroo waves his ringed hand and the guys behind him all get up. One grabs Mr. Hoshino and drags him behind the bar where he leads them down to the basement. Keiji stayed right where he was, still gripping his glass of barely touched alcohol. The other two don’t say a word for a moment. Yellow Tie seems to just be waiting, maybe a little bored. Mr. Kuroo twirls his glass around on the table between long fingers. There’s a half secretive smirk that grows with a few sudden shrieks from downstairs. Keiji jumps a little at the sound, flinching when a hand lays over his.

“I apologize for what’s happening,” Mr Kuroo purred, “It’s just business,” he gestures with his own glass, “You should drink. It’ll help you forget,” and upends his own glass. He leans back, snipping the end of a cigar and lighting it. Keiji looks down at the concoction in his glass and, hearing the thundering up the stairs, takes another swallow of it.

Three men Keiji vaguely remember from earlier are tossed to the floor in front of their table. Mr. Hoshino is shoved into a chair off to the side and left there. The guys with Mr. Kuroo stand behind the ones on the floor.

Keiji drinks again.

“I’ll ask once,” Mr. Kuroo said, not giving them the time of day, “Who do you work for?”

One spits on the floor.

The short one pulls a gun.

Shoots him in the head.

Keiji watches with a strange mixture of numb and terror as the guy just... drops to the floor… _dead_...

Mr. Kuroo sighs as though he’s dealing with an annoying child and that somebody _hasn’t_ just been murdered right in front of him. He stands and meanders around to stand in front of the other two, tucking one hand into his pants pocket while the other holds his cigar. “All I need is a name and we can all go home.” Another moment of silence and Yellow Tie taps a nail on the table. “No? Nothing?”

The nondescript guy with a red tie yanked one of the basement guy’s head back, pressed his own gun under the man’s chin, “Answer him.”

“S-Sawamura! It’s Sawamura!”

Mr. Kuroo blows smoke and steps on a hand. There’s the slow sharp crunch of bone. The guy getting stepped on jerks around, wheezing in forced-down screams.

“It’s best not to lie to me,” the Alpha’s tone is dark, foreboding, “I happen to know that Sawamura Daichi is _not_ , in fact, looking to expand into Tokyo.” he flicks his knife out and looks like he’s about to carve the man alive-

“Daishou!” the other one yelps,

“Shut! _**up**_!”

“It’s Daishou Suguru!”

“Suguru…” Mr. Kuroo paused... and then chuckled, “You hear that, Washio? Suguru is trying to slither his way into our territory…”

Yellow Tie grunted, pressing a finger to his lips, “The Boss won't be happy.”

“No…” Mr. Kuroo agreed and leaned over, “though it would take a snake to try and infiltrate the territories of the Cat and the Horned Owl… wouldn’t it...?”

Keiji stilled. He’d heard of the Great Horned Owl in passing, rumors around campus and beyond. No one spoke about him but in whispers and not for long… as though they were summoning the boogeyman. He’s not as familiar with the Cat but if they were paired together then…

"Nobody would be that stupid… _I'm surprised his-"_

Things get fuzzy… He’s not sure why. He’s only had the one drink and he holds his liquor better than that.

There’s a pair of gunshots and bodies slump to the floor. It’s all very quick and Keiji is both horrified and fascinated at the ease that those men were killed. It was like squishing a bug to these people.

“We take the boy.”

What does that mean.

Mr. Hoshino stuttered, “Sir… He’s…”

“He’s admitted himself that there’s no one to miss him,” Mr. Kuroo’s voice echoes oddly, “By the time someone does, it won’t matter.”

_“Sir, I really must…”_

Things grey and fuzz out. He thinks there might have been some sort of screech but he’s not sure. It’s all very muffled and he feels hot. He feels himself be lifted, the scent of _Alpha_ nicer than it usually is. The voices around him are muffled… kinda like he’s underwater. Why is he being carried by a bumblebee?

And then he’s laid on something soft.

There’s the scent of _Alpha_ everywhere here. It’s a nicer Alpha scent… almost mouthwatering if he’s honest with himself. He’s still much too hot though and struggles out of his clothes before pressing his face into the pillows. It almost feels like heat, but the itching under his skin and the ache between his legs isn’t insistent enough to be. He’s been through enough of them to know. That doesn’t help him though.

Not like the pillow drenched in _Alpha_ does anyway.

 _That_ smells amazing, makes him wonder what the Alpha himself smells like.

When the door opens an indeterminate time later, he knows _exactly_ who it is.

He’s big… everything about him is big and Keiji feels oh so small in comparison. The way the fabric of the spotless white suit stretches as he moves doesn’t help. He bites back a whine when the suit jacket slides off to show a _very_ fitted black pinstripe dress shirt. Keiji hadn’t known his wet dreams looked like until they’d walked in looking like _that_.

The Alpha finally glances at him as he tugs at the yellow tie. His eyes are huge, a strange yellow-gold color. The hair’s a little odd… black and grey spiked with so much hair gel and spray that it stands straight up. It strangely works though… or so Keiji’s muddled brain says.

“He has good taste,” he skims Keiji’s bottom lip with a thumb, “You’re really pretty.”

Keiji preens in his half drunken state.

The attractive Alpha said he’s pretty.

This attractive, _virile_ Alpha was aroused by him… would probably fuck him…

Was there something wrong with that?

He felt like he _shouldn’t_ like that idea so much.

But the large golden-yellow eyes staring at him like he was a meal…

It was... _exciting_.

This close, Keiji can see the very faint lines in his face. He’s not old by any means… just mature… like that one professor Keiji has a lowkey crush on… the one that was working on his doctorate… There’s nothing boyish about him at all… just a hungry beast staring at his dinner.

The Alpha grips his chin and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s surprisingly gentle… to start. Soon enough there’s a tongue invading his mouth and an arm around his waist pressing him close to hard muscles. He can feel _everything_ through the thin shirt. The fact that he’s naked doesn’t even really hit him until a pair of fingers are running down his ass and slipping between his cheeks. He arches with a gasp.

There’s a low breathy growl, “So wet for me already,” a finger runs down his face, down his nose, “What do you think, Pretty Thing? Present for me?”

That’s all he wants.

Keiji shuffles around do just that, glancing over his shoulder and whimpering as the shirt is removed and tossed carelessly to the floor. It’s all **so** much better than he could’ve imagined it. It’s like Alpha’s been carved from marble: big, muscles defined almost but not quite tipping into bulky.

And the thighs.

He’s never considered himself a thigh man… but hot damn, he might just be converted.

Alpha climbs up behind him, hands running hot over his skin in firm stokes. Fingers dip, sliding into him, first one then two when he can take it. He’s not even aware he’s actually doing all the work and fucking himself on those fingers, just that it _feels **so** good_. The third one stretches him a bit but it’s a good burn and he relishes it for a moment, slowing the pace to enjoy a slower slide.

And then they’re gone.

Before he can miss them, they’re replaced with something bigger. He feels his insides being pushed aside to make room for something else. There’s just _so **much**_ of it and it’s splitting him open so easily, just shoving anything out of its way, leaving its mark in him better than a brand. All he can do is cling to the blankets under him and take it. He finally feels thighs against his, the Alpha pressed up tight behind him.

“Not many can take me entirely the first time,” he nips the back of Keiji’s neck which makes him arch and squeeze. The Alpha grunted a little, “ _So tight_ … if you weren’t so tight, I’d think Kuroo warmed you up for me. I’m actually surprised he didn’t,” the cock in him twitches, “His loss,” and slides out only to slam back into him. The air in Keiji’s lungs leaves in a hurry, making him gasp. He doesn’t slow down. It just keeps coming, a constant barrage on his insides, some part of it scraping against _that_ spot and nailing it over and over. It builds quickly and he’s tumbling over the edge much too fast.

The Alpha behind him freezes up, “Oh fuck-!” and he feels warmth as he’s knotted. There’s some heavy gasping and then a low chuckle as he’s lowered to the covers, “Damn… That was wild… I usually last longer than that.”

The weight on top of him is nice. There’s just enough supported on the Alpha’s elbows so he’s not crushed. A nose traces through his hair, around the one visible ear. Teeth nibble a little at the shell, making him shiver. He’s pretty sure this has _ruined_ him for anyone else. There’s simply no way for someone else to compare to this. Even as he’s turned over to stare up at the face of a stranger, the face of a man, an Alpha, whose name he doesn’t know, he dreads leaving.

“What’s your name, Pretty?”

“Akaashi… Akaashi Keiji…”

“ _Agaashi_ …” fingers skimmed his torso.

“Akaashi,” Keiji corrected, feeling his brain just melt.

The dangerous chuckle doesn’t even reach him, “Brave one aren’t you? Akaashi…”

“Akaash…” fuck this man had magic fingers.

A hot tongue licked a line up his neck to the back of his ear where teeth gave a sharp nip. Keiji arched with a gasp. He feels the slick coming again and he’s still much too hot. Fingers dip again and he ruts up into the air. He _thinks_ he hears a chuckle but he doesn’t care. They toy with him for what feels like hours and then they’re gone again and the Alpha’s kneeling over him. It’s faded abit by the time his legs are bent up and over thick arms. He’s filled to the brim again, not quite as smug this time but still enough to feel every inch. It lasts longer this time, but he’s wired too tight to want to be patient. The second knot is quicker to go down and they lay there for a moment catching their breath. He wants to sleep but the squirming in his gut won’t let him.

The Alpha seems to notice and chuckles, “Still? I thought I got you good that last time.”

“ _Please_.”

A tongue licks his lips and he opens them. It’s hot and wet and he’s pulled to straddle the Alpha’s hips. One hand wanders as the other keeps his head still. When squeezing his ass seems to get boring, he’s tugged up and over the Alpha’s head to sit on the man’s _face_. Fingers prod him and that tongue is **in** him and holy hell-! Nobody’s ever done that before...

Just as he’s about to explode, the tongue leaves, “ _Mm Akaashi…”_

He needs it. He needs it!

 _“You’re driving me insane._ ”

More! Just a little more!

_“Mine… you’re mine.”_

His… all his just as long as he can keep making Keiji feel like this!

He’s shoved down and the Alpha’s up and his ass is full again. It’s a frenzy and Keiji can just lay there and take it and clench down the best he can until Alpha’s spilling with little he does. They’re both drenched in sweat, but the glistening Alpha just looks… tasty. He’s done though… He has nothing left to give. Thankfully the Alpha doesn’t seem to either as he simply wraps Keiji up tight and drifts, murmuring something about a good boy. Keiji follows and sleeps like the dead.

It’s disorienting when he wakes in a bed not his own, surrounded by a scent he didn’t really recognize as one he’d smelled before… which was odd since he didn’t _just go home_ with strangers. Still.. It was a nice scent… masculine and heady but he thought there might be something a little airy about it, just a whiff of something light, maybe citrusy… or pear? There wasn’t enough to really be sure. He **did** know that he liked it.

The heavy arm over his waist didn’t tell him much either. It was just there, keeping him pressed against the chest behind him. Legs tangled with his, making it difficult if not impossible to get away if he wanted to. He didn’t know how he felt about it and he was very confused about how he’d even gotten here in the first place. His shift was a closing one and he wasn’t the type to go clubbing after. He _does_ remember something about an Alpha with bad hair, but it goes fuzzy after that.

Was something in his drink? The Alpha with bad hair _had_ poured something of his own into Keiji’s glass… Had he been roofied? 

He shifts-and freezes. His body screams at him. What did he do last night… He knows what happened. They’re both _clearly_ still naked… but he doesn’t remember what _exactly_ happened and his legs and ass and back all ache in a way that doesn’t happen with a simple romp. Maybe it’d been heat accelerant and not just a simple roofie… That’d make his aches make sense. A couple of hours of pseudo-heat could get _wild_ or so he’d been told.

The Alpha moves and-yes-that’s his dick rubbing up his ass, trying to get between his thighs. It’s a thing that’s happening and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. The breathing behind him changes and the arm slinks away as the top leg shifts and Keiji’s free to roll over. He’s a little surprised that his drugged brain managed to be mostly accurate. It’s not as blinding, but the Alpha is still very attractive even with the too-big yellow-gold eyes staring at him with an intensity Keiji hadn’t thought possible. His hair’s different to what his murky brain gives him, but that’s probably just because sleep does things to hair.

He grins a little, finger grazing Keiji’s cheek, “Morning.”

“... Hi…”

“Sleep well, Akaashi?”

He said it wrong.

“I did…”

“Good,” that seems to be the end of that as the Alpha slowly gets up, releasing Keiji entirely. He stretches, back muscles flexing in a way that’s just not fair. The owl tattoo across his shoulders and halfway down his back is interesting… especially since the feathers look more like water and the talons are holding different kinds of flowers. It’s an intricate piece... There’s a satisfied sigh after a particularly _loud_ crack in his spine-

“Who are you…?”

Yellow-gold eyes blink at him... and then his face crinkles with a slow grin as he shifts around to face Keiji, “Bokuto Koutarou. I run the establishment that is the Fukurodani Syndicate,” Keiji blinks, not wanting to understand, “They call me the Great Horned Owl to avoid saying my name,” he laughs as Keiji’s blood fills with ice. He’s slept with Yakuza. He’s _in bed_... with Yakuza… and not just some mob dweeb no… It’s the _fucking_ oyabun- “You’d think I was an Oni or something the way they act.”

He’s had sex with a mob boss, knows his _name_ , has _seen his face_ …

He’s so dead… He’s so **very** dead.

A hand touches his face, making him jolt, “Easy… What’s wong.”

“I… you-” **no**! That sounds like an accusation, “I’m sorry… I don’t know how I got here. I didn’t mean anything- I won’t tell anybody-!”

“Hey-hey…” the smile is _almost_ gentle, “It’s ok, Akasshi. Kuroo did good. I like you.”

Keiji doesn’t know if he should cry in relief or be even more terrified.

On the one hand, he might not die… but… if he’s liked then…

He may not leave…

“Come on,” Mr. Bokuto tugs him up, “I have to go soon. We could use a shower.”

He lets himself be led into the ensuite where the Alpha turns the shower on. Within seconds, he’s being pulled into the stall, glass door closing behind them. It’s odd… how the Alpha manages to wash his hair and be almost sultry about it but… there’s a wall up… like he’s not put his guard down either. What’s almost more surprising is that he’s really not that much shorter than the Alpha… Mr. Bokuto had seemed so much bigger the night before… and yet they’re almost the height. He was just as wide as Keiji thought he was though. There wasn’t a spot on him that wasn’t built and sculpted to practically perfection. Every bit of him looked like it could crush Keiji with minimal effort.

The water shuts off and he’s tugged out and mostly toweled off before said towel is handed to him so the Alpha can dry himself off. Keiji finishes, feeling kind of dazed about the whole thing, and follows Mr. Bokuto back into the bedroom. He finds his clothes and puts them on as the Alpha sits back on the bed to check through his phone… and Keiji realizes that he doesn’t have his… It’s still at the bar.

“I… I have to go…” he forces himself to not shuffle his feet, “I can’t stay here.”

The Alpha cocked his head a little as he looks up, “You don’t leave… not really…”

Dread curls around his spine, “What do you mean? You can’t… You can’t _keep_ me here…!”

_Shut up! Shut **up**!_

“I suppose you always go work hospitality somewhere… but that’s such a waste,” the Alpha gets up and heads for the closet.

“Hospitality…?”

 _“Guests get lonely you know_ ,” Mr. Bokuto replies from inside the closet, “ _Seeing as how I own a few of the preferred hotels, it’s my responsibility to-”_ there’s a low strained grunt and he reappears mostly dressed. He tosses a suit jacket on the bed as he goes for his buttons. The fabric is shiny, silvery, and molds to the Alpha in a way that makes Keiji want to take it off again.

He shouldn’t want to… This man has practically admitted to kidnapping him and holding him captive… that he can’t leave unless… unless he… “What did you mean ‘work hospitality’?”

“Mm?” yellow-gold eyes pin him, looking confused for a moment before clearing, “Oh right… I own several of the really nice hotels and have staff to… well, they’re there to provide companionship if requested by the guests.”

“ _Companionship_?”

“Dinner partner, a date to the ballet… a body to fuck,” there’s half a smirk and Keiji shrivels on himself. They’d make him do that?

 _Really_?

“It’d actually be fairly lucrative for you,” Mr. Bokuto heads off to run a couple palmfuls of gel into his hair, sending it straight to the ceiling like Keiji remembered it, “You’d probably advance pretty fast… become a favorite.”

“And if I don’t want that?”

“Then you stay with me for awhile!”

But what about _after_ that?

What happens to him after Mr. Bokuto gets bored of him?

“I…”

“It’ll be fine,” Mr. Bokuto dismisses everything with a wave of his hand, “You have free reign of the rooms and I’ll have food sent up for you.” He leaves without a backwards glance and Keiji just stands there for a moment in shock. This isn’t happening… not to him…

He spends hours going through everything, trying to find a way out. They’re too far up in whichever building their in and none of the windows open anyway. He tried throwing a heavy bookend at one but it bounced off with barely a scratch.

What food is brought up is… well when he _finally_ decides to eat it in the middle of the afternoon, it’s cold, but it’s still good. Dinner comes and goes and Mr. Bokuto hasn’t come back yet. It’s hit midnight before Keiji curls up on the couch and falls asleep. He wakes up in Mr. Bokuto’s bed and the shower’s running. It’s morning by then and he’s just confused and… he’s not giving up but he’s realized that he’s only leaving these rooms if Mr. Bokuto wants him to.

Mr. Bokuto appears and shoots him a grin, “Hey Hey Hey! You’re up.”

Keiji nods, “Yes sir.”

The Alpha points to a few bags on the floor, “Got you some stuff,” and disappeared into the closet, “ _figured you wouldn’t want to wear the same things every day_.”

That was… surprisingly thoughtful.

“...Thank you...”

Mr. Bokuto reappears, dressed in another suit, and leans over to peck Keiji on the head, “I’ll try to not be so late tonight, ok?”

“Ok,” he replies without thinking about it.

There’s a grin and the Alpha’s gone again. Keiji stays on the bed for a long time, eyeing the bag on the floor before deciding to get a shower. Once clean again, he shuffles over and reluctantly looks through the clothes. It’s all… name brand top label stuff. His eyes bug, recognizing some of it and knowing it’s cost _alot_ of money. He doesn’t want to wear any of it, afraid that doing so would make him in debt to Mr. Bokuto… but **not** wearing them could be seen as a slight…

He’s fucked.

He’d just... fucked.

Keiji eventually chooses one of the less expensive loungewear sets and watches mind numbing TV in-between reading whatever reading material he finds.

Life finds a new rhythm… one he’s bored to death with. It’s been two weeks and he hasn’t left the rooms at all. Mr. Bokuto doesn’t expect much from him… just sleep in the bed with him and they’ve had sex quite a few times though none of _that_ had been coersed surprisingly. He’s just bored to death most of the time.

He leaps at the chance to go out somewhere when the Alpha mentions it. It’s just dinner at a new exclusive restaurant Mr. Bokuto wanted to try but couldn’t get a reservation for less than two. Keiji’s given a dress for the occasion which he hates to know the price of. It matches Mr. Bokuto’s tie, an ombre black to silver, and he hates that it looks as good as it does on him.

Dinner is nice though he feels very out of place. He copies the Alpha to the best of his abilities and manges to order something that he eats well enough. Mr. Bokuto is… charming if loud and seemingly overeager at times. He seems deliberately attentive though, making sure Keiji has what he wants when he wants it. When he comments on it later, he finds out that it’s an intentional habit… something Mr. Bokuto forced himself to learn over the last few years to combate his egotistical head-in-the-clouds tendencies. He asks if he did alright and Keiji assures him that he did just fine.

That dinner leads to a few more and then he’s brought with the Alpha to some sort of gathering at a hotel across the city, closer to his old apartment and the bar he’d worked at. The fact that it was in Nekoma territory meant nothing to him. Everything in the hotel was kind of a blur. It reeked of money and he’s just dazed by it all.

He realizes _what kind_ of gathering this is when he’s tucked under one of Mr. Bokuto’s arms on a couch in some ritzy lounge later that night. The shimmery black dress he’d been shoved into hugs every curve, leaving him open to other Alphas and a few Betas staring at him… or they did until they realized who he was walking with. The men sitting with them don’t seem to have those same reservations though. All three Alphas are smoking cigars and drinking whatever they’d chosen. Mr. Kuroo was alone… well aside from the men guarding him. Apparently this was normal though since his Omega didn’t like to stray too far from their headquarters. Mr. Sawamura was also alone though this seemed less normal. ‘ _A issue arose at the last minute_ ’ or so he’d said.

They talked alot of business, things Keiji couldn’t hope to understand. Alot of it sounded barely legal and the rest was most definitely _il_ legal. Keiji couldn’t quite keep up with some of the lingo and he was pretty sure he’d be useless on a stand if he was called to testify against them. He just knew whatever they were talking about didn’t sound good.

It was decided after their third drinks that they’d play a round or two of pool. The Alphas moved, their men following and clearing the hall with little more than a few looks. They spread out across the room as the Alphas chose their equipment and argued about which game specifically to play. Keiji didn’t know any of them and had just stood there awkwardly until Mr. Bokuto propped him up on the back of the nearest couch and gave him a smug grin before going back to play whichever game they’d settled on. Apparently Mr. Kuroo won the bid to go first and did so.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there on the back of that couch… They’d continued to drink and joke like old friends, the smell of cigar smoke from them and cigarette smoke from their underlings growing thicker. Keiji gets tired, but doesn’t want to interrupt… isn’t even sure if he’s allowed to leave… if his presence is required to make Mr. Bokuto look good. He must’ve zoned out because he doesn’t notice the Alpha approach him until there’s a hand tilting his chin up.

“Tired?” Mr. Bokuto asked.

“A bit,” he admits, “but it’s ok-”

“Nonsense,” He jerks his head toward one of the guys and kisses Keiji like it’s the last one they might have, “Sleep well. I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Ok,” Keiji slowly slips off the back of the couch and follows whichever underling was summoned… He _thinks_ the name is Saru… or at least that’s what Keiji thinks Mr. Bokuto calls him. They head on out to the lobby and on to the elevators. Saru? steps off first once they’ve hit their floor and Keiji after him. This walk is just as silent as the one downstairs so he occupies himself with digging for his roomkey.

“Hey-!”

Keiji bumps into the Beta and instantly realizes that they’re not alone on this floor… and whoever else is there isn't friendly. Saru draws his gun but here’s a muffled _bang_ and he goes down. Keiji is left staring at a pair of males at the end of the hallway, both of whom have their own weapons drawn. He goes to run back to the elevators-

-and bumps into a third figure… who grabs him.

Keiji fights, dropping his things in the process. He doesn’t really feel the prick of the needle but he feels the drug pull him under. He’s only vaguely aware of being lifted and carried away… of Saru yelling after them and then…

 _Nothing_ …

When he comes to, he’s tied to a chair in some basement or something. It’s dark and dank and gross. His arms feel prickly, asleep. He’s been here for awhile… how long that while has been he doesn’t know. Could be hours or days… though maybe not days. He doesn’t feel hungry or particularly parched, so it’s probably just been a few hours.

That doesn’t help with where he is though.

Being out for hours could mean he’s anywhere. He might not even be in Tokyo anymore. What’s worse is knowing that nobody’s coming for him. His parents don’t care, probably think he’s dead. He didn’t have friends close enough to look into a disappearance or if they did, they would have the first time… Now he’s disappeared-disappeared. He’s just _gone_ now.

Mr. Bokuto….

No, not him… Mr. Bokuto wouldn’t care enough. Keiji’s nothing but a bed warmer to him, something to fuck when the mood hits him. It’d take more effort than it’s worth for Mr. Bokuto to come and rescue him. Or maybe not… He _did_ bring Keiji with him to this meeting with his associates… Maybe he means more than he thought to Mr. Bokuto.

Or… maybe he’s just a pretty face.

The door at the other end of the room opens and two males walk in. Neither smell particularly heavy so he assumes they’re both Betas. Both come up close, crowding him. One leans over, gets in his face.

“Pretty.”

“Mm,” the other hums.

“It’s a shame… What do you think We’ll sell him for?”

_Sell him…?_

_That's a joke right?_

_Oh please no-_

The hand across his face is surprising… harsh… Something nicked the corner of his eye, making it water. He feels his cheek warm. He waits for something else…

“How much do _you_ think you’re worth…?” the first Beta asks.

Keiji has no idea what the man is talking about. His eye keeps tearing up, leaking. The backhand across the same side of his face hurts even more. He can feel where the knuckles touched, how the skin almost instantly starts to swell abit.

“How much. do you think. You’re worth…”

“I don’t know,” he chokes.

“At least you’re honest,” the Beta sneered, “Should we tag you as used? Or experienced... I’m sure Bokuto’s got you trained real well by now,” a hand grips his chin, thumb caressing his bottom lip, pushing it against his teeth, “Has he used you up though? Are you still _tight_?” he reaches, grabs Keiji between his legs, the other hand ripping Keiji’s dress down the front-.

“No! Stop!”

“Hey,” the second Beta nudges his friend aside, “Not yet.”

“What’s it matter?”

“Boss said not yet for one. And two: he won’t tell us anything if you just take it.”

The first Beta makes a face but backs away anyway, “Alright, then _you_ talk to him.”

The second one steps up, “Akaashi right? I think we got that name right. My name is Hiroo, not that it does you much good but at least I’m not a stranger anymore right?”

Keiji doesn’t respond.

“Akaashi…”

Why does it sound wrong?

The Beta’s pronouncing it correctly… so why does it sound _so wrong?_

“Akaashi… there’s debt to be paid… Do you know anything about that?”

Keiji slowly shakes his head, “No one I know owes anybody anything.”

“See that’s where we seem to have a problem,” Hiroo replied, “My boss thinks the man you’re sleeping with **does** owe him something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keiji fights the tears.

“Doesn’t matter,” the Beta replied, “We lost a good thing in that bar… alot of money and some good guys,” he yanked Keiji’s head back by his hair, “Unfortunately you’re the one paying the price for that. I don’t care much for it, but we can’t exactly just go strolling up to Bokuto Koutarou and shoot him. We need to lure him out… or just take something he clearly likes from him. Either way, he loses something.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Keiji whimpers, “He won’t… I’m nothing to him.”

Hiroo smirks at him, “Maybe it is, but I don’t think you’re _nothing_ to him… It’s simply a matter of if you’re _enough_ … Are you _worth_ the effort?”

Keiji swallows, “I’m not.”

“We’ll see… won’t we?” the Beta lets his head go, shoving it a little, and walks away. The other Beta leers at him and follows his buddy out. Keiji lets himself cry for a moment just to relieve the pressure in his chest and then sets about trying to figure out if the ropes on his wrists are as tight as he thinks they are. They rub and burn and he’s nearly in tears again before he gives up for a minute.

The door opens again and Hiroo shows up with three more behind him, “Time’s up, Princess. I need info or you’re headed somewhere not very nice.”

“I don’t know anything!”

“And I think you-”

There’s explosions and gunfire. The Betas all look at each other, eyes wide. They ready their weapons as the door bursts open and… Mr. Bokuto’s there…

He’s there and he’s… _angry_ …

He’s ripping the kidnappers apart like they’re nothing. It’s a whirlwind of fists and knees and three of them drop, crumpled to the ground. He pulls out his gun, white with gold plating, and fires three rapid shots into three skulls.

It’s deafening.

The last one, Hiroo, scrambles back as Mr. Bokuto approaches. The Alpha’s aura is suffocating, harsh as he takes note of how Keiji’s wrists are tied, growling low as a finger skims the ropeburns, and then there’s the cold of metal. The ropes fall away and Keiji’s lifted from the chair, pulled away by strong arms that wrap around him like a warm vice. A hand presses Keiji’s face into the Alpha’s throat, letting him inhale right at the scent glands. Under the anger, there’s something else, something warm… something _very_ Bokuto. It’s calming and the adrenaline starts to wear off. Keiji slowly realizes how cold he is and shivers. Mr. Bokuto pushes him away just a little and shrugs out of his suit, draping it over Keiji’s shoulders. The fact that it's got blood splatters on it doesn’t reach him.

“Did they hurt you.”

Keiji slowly shook his head, “Not really.”

Fingers touched his face, “They hit you,” and drop to touch just above the irritated skin on a wrist.

“I’m ok,” he replied though his face does feel a little swollen and his wrists burn.

Yellow-gold eyes stare into his, glittering in the damp light. He looks dangerous, animalistic, but… Keiji’s honestly never felt so safe. Mr. Bokuto leaves him to stalk across the floor and grab Hiroo. He drags the scrambling Beta over the concrete by the collar and throws him on the floor. Hiroo grunts, only just barely saving his head from colliding.

It doesn’t matter.

Bokuto punches him and his skull bounces with a sickening crack, “I’ll get to the point. You’re not stupid enough to come up with this little plan for yours but you **are** stupid enough to follow stupid orders,” he hauls Hiroo up, “so who gave you the stupid orders?”

“Go to hell,” Hiroo slurs, “The piece of ass isn’t worth it. He was picked up at _a bar-”_

Bokuto chuckles low, “Brave words for a dead man about to piss himself.”

“Believe what you want,” Hiroo retorted, “Those were _my_ men Kuroo Tetsuro slaughtered. The bitch is the prize he took with him. I was just getting my due-”

Bokuto hit him again and then twisted Hiroo’s fingers until they snapped and the Beta bit of a few screams, “So you **are** that stupid then… Pity… I was going to let you off with a warning to not touch my things again,” he tossed the Beta and kicked him in the ribs. Hiroo wheezed. Bokuto toes his legs, moving them a little and then stomped down on a knee. Hiroo screams, his shin just sort of _there_ , bent in a way it shouldn’t be. “Ready to talk to me yet? What were you going to do with him? There’s a market for people like him. I’ll bet you had a buyer already.”

There’s a wet laugh that might have been a sob, “... said it would work…”

“What’s that?”

“You weren’t supposed to care this much,” Hiroo spit red on the floor. “It was a quick job… Keep him for a day to see if you’d show up, then get rid of him…”

Keiji’s insides freeze.

That hadn’t just been a threat…

Bokuto grabbed him and forced him to kneel, “And what would that do? Hm? What was supposed to happen when I showed up…?”

“Payback for my men… Washio just watched my men die and… took the prize...”

Bokuto pointed the gun at the Beta, “You tried to take what was mine away from me… Tried to blackmail me with him,” his tone dropped, “You know how this ends, **don’t** you.”

The fight seemed to leave him, leaving Hiroo deflated, “Please sir I was ju-”

Bokuto kicked him in the head, sending the man sprawling, his face bleeding, “Following orders…? Like I told you you were? Then you can blame your boss for this. Tell me, in detail, how he fucked you over when he tried to toy with me,” he pointed the weapon again… and paused… “No…” he turned to stare at Keiji, jiggling the gun in his hand as though he were thinking, and then walked toward him. Keiji was frozen in place, eyeing the Alpha, flinching a little when he tugged him forward and then stepped behind him. Bokuto’s hands wrapped around his, pressing the gun into his palms and holding it steady as they pointed it at the Beta, “Go on… Pull the trigger.”

He couldn’t… could he?

There was no way…

He couldn’t…

He wasn’t a killer…

He couldn’t murder this man…

“He was going to rape you, Akaashi… rape you and sell you,” lips touched his ear, “or kill you. His boss, Daishou Suguru, is a sick fuck. He may have saved you for a show. Kill you in front of me. That’s not very nice is it?”

 _No_ …

“Shoot him. Send a message. Tell his boss that you’re not so weak as that.”

Keiji wasn’t weak…

He’d lasted this long next to Bokuto… He wouldn’t be taken again… He wouldn’t be put through this again… If killing this one meant the rest would stay away…

He inhaled… exhaled…

And pulled the trigger.

Watched as Hiroo slumped, oozing red…

Keiji dropped, feeling sick and emptying what was left in his stomach.

Warm hands touch his face, cupping his cheek. He looks up, tears fucking his vision. Bokuto’s smirk is proud.

“You did so well,” and kissed him, vomit-breath and all. It was gross. Keiji wouldn’t kiss himself before _at least_ a breath mint but Bokuto just does not seem to care, “You’ve never been more beautiful.” Keiji _seriously_ doubted that but didn’t say anything. The Alpha stroked his cheek and looked over his shoulder, “And you thought he couldn’t do it.”

Keiji froze as a third voice, Mr. Kuroo’s voice, curled around his spine. “I’m impressed. I don’t know if it'll be enough, but I’m impressed,” there was a _snick_ of a lighter.

“It doesn't matter what they think,” Bokuto replied, “He’s with me. _They_ can all fuck off,” the Alpha helped him to his feet and wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders.

“If they decide he’s a liability, they might take the choice from you,” Kuroo said easily.

“I don’t know when they became a group of spineless asshats. We used to _run_ this city.”

“I know,” replied, “But until this shit with the twins is figured out, the rest are willing to play by their rules. There's not much we can do without going up against the lot of them.”

“Just let me raid their fucking gambling den. I’ll take care of it myself,” Bokuto led him toward the way out.

“And get passed Suna? _Kita_?” Kuroo laughed as he followed them, “Good luck with that.”

“I just have to make sure they’re not there,” Bokuto waved it away, “This whole thing is between the syndicates and the twins. Nothing said we needed to take out the entirety of Inarizaki.”

“And what happens when they want retribution? What happens when _they_ come after little Akaashi.”

“I send them all to Hell.”

“That outburst might make the rest consider him too much trouble and just off him themselves.”

Bokuto spun around. Keiji lost his tenuous balance and only just caught into the Alpha’s shirt. The growl was low, _animalistic_ , making his spine tingle.

“Try it… I dare them.”

Light lit the air between the Alphas as Kuroo took a pull from his cigar. He breathed the smoke off to the side, “Pets are meant to temper the Alpha, give them an outlet… They are not permanent fixtures, Bo. They are replaceable,” he stepped around them on up some stairs, “Remember… he was never meant to stay.”

“That’s not for them to decide!” Bokuto snarled after him, “ _Bastard_.”

“What does he mean?” Keiji clung to the material, “ _Never meant to stay_.”

“Don’t concern yourself,” arms wrapped around him again, a nose pressing into his hairline, “It doesn’t matter what they think you are to me. I know and that’s all that’s important,” a finger tilts his face up, “You’re mine, Akaashi Keiji, and that’s all you need to know.”

He ponders that the best he can as he’s helped up the stairs and out to a waiting car. It makes all the sense… and yet none. If he’s a pet… a fucktoy like Kuroo suggested he was, _replaceable_ … then why would Bokuto Koutarou, leader of the Fukurodani Syndicate, settle for someone like him. Keiji’s nothing special. He’s _less_ than useless in this dark world he’s been yanked into. He couldn’t even free himself.

He’s still thinking about it when Bokuto helps him into a hot bath. It still doesn’t make sense to him. He’d hoped he was important but he was under no illusions that he had nothing to offer the mob boss other than what he was already giving him… and anyone could do _that_.

“Keiji…”

He looked up, noting how the yellow-gold were narrowed a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” how to put it into words... “Why did you come for me?”

A heavy hand cupped his unbruised cheek, thumb stroking this cheekbone, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Keiji laid his hand over Bokuto’s, “That’s… I’m not…”

“Worth it?” the yellow-gold flashed a little, the Alpha smirking just a bit as he leaned over the rim of the tub, “Isn’t that for me to decide, Akaashi Keiji?”

“I just don’t understand.”

Lips touched his, a firm press… almost like a stamp of ownership.

Bokuto pulled away and stripped before stepping into the tub, facing Keiji. He was tugged till he was sitting between the Alpha’s legs, his own loosely wrapped around Bokuto’s hips. Lips touched his again before they traveled, nipping at his neck. He jolted a little when his scent glands were purposefully licked.

“You’re mine, Keiji… No one does to me what you do,” hands ran all over him, pressing here, skimming there. His nerves were singing, strung so tight he thought he'd burst. He’s almost there when Bokuto eases off and shifts them a little. The stretch burns but it’s so good. He keens, clinging to the Alpha as they rock in the bathwater, some of it spilling over onto the floor. Bokuto sucks on his scent glands and that sets him over. The Alpha’s knot fills him, pumps him full as he sags against Bokuto’s chest. He’s cradled as they lounge until the water’s too cold. He’s toweled off and his wrists wrapped up so tenderly it almost makes him cry. Bokuto tucks him into bed and curls around him, their hands sliding over the other’s. Keiji’s is slightly bigger, though it’s because of his long fingers. Bokuto’s are stronger, thicker, seem bigger until pressed against Keiji’s.

He doesn’t sleep well that night. Hiroo’s face kept appearing followed by an echoed _bang_. It woke him up every. single. time. He feels guilty, like maybe there was a better way to deal with him. Logic tells him probably not, that the Beta would have just gone to his boss and told him things or kidnap a different Omega. That’s what he chose to focus on… Sure he killed somebody, but that somebody had done awful things to him and probably others. Now he wouldn’t be able to hurt somebody else.

Sleep finally takes him for good as the sun’s coming up. It doesn’t last long since they have to be up and out, back to Fukurodani and Bokuto seems to sense that. The Alpha gives him a few looks over the course of the morning as they dress and pack. He tugs Keiji down to rest his head on the Alpha’s lap as they make the long drive back home.

A couple of days later, he’s at the gun range. It’d been his idea and Bokuto had been ecstatic to teach him. There’s only a few other Yakuza there and most of them clear out pretty fast. He watches Bokuto take aim, how he holds the weapon, pulling the trigger…

The shot was good if the pleased smile is anything to go by, “Ready?”

“I-I suppose…” he accepts the large weapon, feeling awkward holding it again.

“Like this,” the Alpha adjusts him a bit, “Careful of the recoil. You’ll get used to it… Remember,” his breath is hot on Keiji’s neck, “Breathe in… breathe out and fire.” Hands drop to his waist though the body stays just as close.

Keiji eyes the target, the image of Hiroo flashing in his mind’s eye for a moment before he takes a breath and squeezes the trigger on the exhale. The low whistle is the only indication that he’s done better than expected. All he feels is the weight of the weapon, knowing he fired it of his own volition… with the intention to _get better_ … that he wants to get **good** at using it…

“Again,” Bokuto sounds pleased and Keiji looks over his shoulder at the gleaming yellow-gold. The Alpha’s preening for him, an air of barely stifled joy that makes the man _vibrate_.

He’s happy.

Bokuto’s _happy_ … with Keiji…

It soothes something in the Omega… something that probably shouldn’t exist… but it does and he’s not sure there is a way to get rid of it.

So instead he raises the gun again and takes another shot.

They spend hours there over the course of the next few weeks. When Bokuto has nothing pressing to do, they’re there firing bullet after magazine. The pile of spent casings grows as does the number of paper targets that show Keiji’s progress. Even Washio’s impressed which says something.

Seven weeks after he started, Keiji is given his own pistol. It’s smaller than the one he’s used to using, but it’s easier to conceal. The fact that’s white with gold plating to match Bokuto’s doesn’t slip him either. It feels more intimate a gift than the slinky and sometimes outright obscene lingerie the Alpha gives him at random.

He uses it, gets used to the lighter weight and how to take it apart and put it back together until it’s just an extension of him. Life doesn’t feel right if he doesn’t have it with him outside of their rooms. There hasn’t been a reason to actually use it yet, but he’s waiting, _ready_.

Bokuto takes him to more functions here and there which is just an excuse to shower him with more expensive clothes and jewelry. It takes time for Keiji to get used to wearing the frankly absurd pieces, briefly thinking about how much rent or how many semesters he could’ve paid for with each one. But the women and Omegas around him at those parties and such don’t have those cares and to snub Bokuto’s gifts, to not wear them would be an insult.

And that’s the last thing he wants.

If Bokuto’s chosen him, then he will do everything in his power to look the part. So he has his ears pierced and gets into the habit of getting his nails done, usually black or some combination of black, yellow, and/or white. Bokuto answers most of the questions he has about the business and those he can’t, Keiji finds on his own. He pays more attention to those in his position, how they act around their Alphas and what they talk about. It’s all very vapid for the most part though he _does_ see the hidden chess game being played among the smarter partners. Kenma, for one, in the few times Keiji sees him plays 5D chess. He says little and observes everything. It’s a good thing Kuroo and Bo are more allies than not. Keiji does not particularly want to go up against Kenma in a battle of the brains. He’s not convinced that he’d lose necessarily, but a victory against Nekoma would be costly.

He has no such reservations against any of the other Omegas.

Oh a few of them are smart… just not to that level.

The Karasuno Omega, Sugawara, is sadistic and would be a ruthless opponent. Eita, the Omega from Shiratorizawa, isn’t as smart or merciless… but the Beta who flits around him is someone to be concerned about. Not too much though. The redhead is simply more the type to burn a city block to the ground than to try and infiltrate the _one_ building he needs to get into. The associated Alpha, despite his menacing aura, seems a little more level-headed thankfully. The most concerning of the Miyagi syndicates is the Omega leading Seijo. Oikawa Tooru is a dangerous man shadowed by a dangerous Alpha. Wisdom gleaned from years in the trade forged with a callous yet unyielding devotion leaves Keiji a little wary of the pair.

Of course there’s also the Miya twins from Inarizaki… They’re more lucky than smart though. It’s the Alpha, Kita, they have to look out for there.

Keiji wishes he could do more, but he hasn’t been in the business long and Bo’s protective of him. He reads up on what he can, talks with Fukurodani’s lawyer, Suzumeda, about different legal things. Washio’s hesitant to teach him hand-to-hand but eventually agrees to it. Keiji quickly realizes that physical _anything_ is not his forte. He can hold his own but for long and not against people like Washio or Bo. Komi and Anahori are easier and he does win a few of those matches, but he much prefers shooting and gets **really** good at that.

He’s nursing a sore shoulder one particular evening while drinking a glass of wine. The show he’s watching is drivel but entertaining… better than the news anyway. It’s late, way after dinner but not quite bedtime yet when Bo slogs through the door.

He toes out of his shoes with a tired huff, “Sorry… meeting got pushed off and then ran long tonight…”

“It’s fine,” Keiji eyed him a bit as the suit jacket comes off. There’s a light spray of red on one side of it… which is a shame because he liked that particular one.

“I have a fucking proposal to look through before tomorrow,” he stretched, back cracking in a few places, “This part of it is so boring…” he loosens his tie, “Why can’t they just figure it out themselves? That’s why they’re there! To figure this shit out-! I’m here to lead and keep friendly with the other leaders. I don’t care about the rest as long it goes well.”

“Would you like me to look at it?” Keiji asked, “I took a few business classes in college-”

“Would you!” a small pile of files and papers were shoved at him by a shining Bo, “That would be great!”

Well.. if he hadn’t meant it before, he was doing it now.

He took them and shifted around on the couch to get comfortable. His mostly-empty glass of wine disappears and reappears full with Bo. He grabs it, taking a sip as he flips through the files, studying the details. Bo settles next to him and then flops over to rest his head on Keiji’s lap when his own drink is done. Keiji skims his hair, feeling the stickiness of the gel keeping it up and slowly ruins the look, pulling his hand away every so often to turn a page before going back. At one point he lays the papers on Bo’s head so he can compare a couple of graphs. The Alpha’s breathing had evened out, the man falling asleep between Keiji’s spread thighs. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world and he’s pretty sure his leg’s completely asleep, but moving might wake Bo and the Alpha’s not had much sleep over the last few days up so he stays still.

The numbers looked good and, based on what he’d heard Suzumeda say in the past, there didn’t look to be much of anything for the police to pin on them if they got wind of it. What they _could_ get them on was negligible. A few fines and some lawyer’s fees were nothing compared to the amount of product they’d sell in the meantime. He’s not super thrilled with the proposed mode of transportation, but he’ll address that later.

He closes the files and focuses on the Alpha snoozing away without a care in the world. His hair’s a mess by now but it adds something endearing to the view. He’d popped his shirt buttons when Keiji wasn’t looking, leaving his torso on display. It makes him look vulnerable and, as silly as it sounds, Keiji wants to protect him. He doesn’t need to be. Bokuto Koutarou is an apex predator within Tokyo… probably beyond that if Keiji is honest.

But he’s still human…

A lucky bullet _could_ end him.

Keiji doesn’t want to think about it.

A world without Bokuto Koutarou would, not doubt, be a safer place for the general populace… but it’s not a world Keiji wants to exist in.

He traces the lines on the Alpha’s face, careful to not suddenly rouse him. It’s only been a year and he’s already so… The way they’d meshed together was something Keiji couldn’t have hoped for. He doesn’t sleep the nights Bo’s gone and every time he gets news that Bo’s been hurt or he comes home with significant blood on his clothes, he swears the universe ends for a moment until he realizes it’s not _that_ bad and most of the time the blood’s not even his.

The curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose, everything in his face relaxes in sleep, softens till Keiji has difficulty believing that this man runs a crime syndicate. He’d changed abit in the year since Keiji’s been here. It’s not much and really only when it’s the two of them. It’s moments like this, when he can fall asleep on the couch for a little bit without needing to have a gun or a knife near him or the way he sometimes holds Keiji like he’s glass and kisses him so tenderly Keiji almost forgets that they _don’t_ live in a cute little house with a couple of kids sleeping down the hall living a perfectly normal life.

But they don’t.

And it’s ok.

He’ll take this life over one without the Alpha in it.

Bo asks for his thoughts on the proposal written down so he can remember everything during the meeting. He comes home smirking, preening like a peacock, a couple of weeks later, bragging about how well the new transport and route went. Keiji’s whisked out of his seat and stumbles a little until he settles into dancing with the Alpha around the room. Bo keeps one of Keiji’s hands near his face, kissing it every so often as he stares… and stares… and then he’s smirking and the world spins as Keiji’s dipped back toward the floor. He _almost_ yelps and Bo seems slightly miffed that he didn’t but then he’s kissing Keiji, so soft with just the right amount of possession. The Alpha breaks the kiss and then kisses him again, this one a little more possessive, a little more heated.

“How did I find such a smart, beautiful thing like you.”

“I think Kuroo claims responsibility for that,” Keiji replies and smothers a grin when Bo makes a face.

“Damn cat.”

Bo involves him more after that. It’s mostly behind the scenes things, but Keiji finds himself not needing to amuse himself as much anymore. He gets intimate with various parts of Fukurodani to the point that it’d be bad if he was kidnapped… and not just because Bo would go bezerk trying to get him back. The relationships he builds within the network are important and kept up with, mostly at galas and dinners but sometimes there’s a lunch or an afternoon at the spa and shopping with one or two of them.

He doesn’t recognize himself much anymore when he looks in the mirror. The Akaashi Keiji who went to college and worked at a bar would never wear what he’s wearing for the party tonight or have his nails done. He certainly didn’t have that cold look in his eyes that the Omega staring back at him does.

“Ready to go, love of my life?” Bo poked his head in, as he adjusted his white jacket.

“You shouldn’t call me that,” Keiji replied as he swiped some mascara on.

“But why, _Akaasshii_?” yellow owl eyes blinked at him like a sad puppy.

Keiji grabbed the small jeweled purse off the counter, feeling the weight of his small pistol inside it, “Because the walls listen.”

“If I can’t call you that here,” Bo sidled up to him, almost pressing him into the counter. His voice doing that low growly thing he knew would make Keiji soak himself as he laid a hand over his throat, “then where might I call you mine, my Keiji...?”

The slick slid right past the string of his thong and started down his thigh as Bo ran a firm thumb over his lip, “It would be troublesome for you if someone were to take me from you.”

The Mob Boss’s face split into a dark smirk, “I would like to see them try,” black almost drowned out the gold, “Even if they did, you know I’d burn the entire planet to get you back. They’d see me coming and toss you at my feet in vain hopes of mercy,” he nipped Keiji’s ear, “And then I’d hang them from their toenails and skin them alive just for the sin for _touching_ you.”

Keiji closed his eyes in an attempt to get himself under control. Breathing through his nose did nothing helpful. All he got were lungfuls of _Bokuto Koutarou_ and that **certainly** didn’t help. He’s endlessly grateful to himself that he’d chosen to wait on his lipstick until they’d arrived when the Alpha leans down and kisses him... _hard_. Bo lifts him up on the counter, pulling them flush together. His dress is lifted to his hips, hands dipping under the strings of the lousy excuse for underwear as his legs wrap around the Alpha’s waist.

“If I can’t say it-” Bo’s fingers are everywhere they shouldn’t be… and Keiji’s melting. All he smells is himself and Bo. “-I’ll tell them anyway.” There’s a clink of a belt and Keiji’s ripped off the counter only to be bent over it. One hand holds him down by the back of the neck while the other helps Bo line himself up and then grips a hip as the Alpha bucks into him with one steady roll of the hips.

He’d _just_ ridden his Alpha that morning and he _still_ feels so full and it’s so, so good and Bo’s figured out all the good spots and- oh fuck- he’s not going to last long, “ _Ko… please.”_

Bo growls low and there’s a sharp bite at the back of his neck, “You can’t just **do** that to me, Keij.” Another sharp thrust has Keiji mewling. “ _Fuuuck_ Keiji.” Bo’s getting serious now. The playfulness is gone. The Alpha rails into him, nailing his insides until Keiji’s coming undone, shrieking into the countertop. Bo’s hips get jerky and then still, his knot swelling. He chuckles, running hands over Keiji’s back and sides, “That’s my good boy.”

Keiji takes a moment to come down, “We’re going to be late.”

“So.”

“They’ll _know_ what we’ve _done_ , you-” he didn’t bother to finish the thought.

“Mhm. They know your ass is _mine_ … and they’d be signed their own death warrants if they so much as stare at you for too long.”

“I’m surprised you’d let them look at all,” Keiji deadpans.

“What’s the point of having perfection if I can’t show it off and let the rest see and mourn for what they can’t have?” Bo’s voice was so fucking smug. Lips touch the back of his neck as hands grope his ass. Keiji whimpers a bit, shuddering with the pleasant chills rushing up his spine.

A drawer opens a few minutes later and there’s some digging through it. Keiji doesn’t bother to try and see what’s going on. He knows what’s in that particular drawer. Bo slips out and replaces himself with a plug… one of the vibrating ones it feels like. Keiji’s dress is pulled back down and he pushes himself up to check the damage done to his makeup. It looks alright though not as flawless as he would have liked. The smudging makes him look sultry which isn’t the worst thing but combined with the way he’s sure he reeks of Bo, the entire event will know what happened.

Bo’s looking smug in the mirror, “You’re beautiful, Keiji.”

“The plug stays off until the ride home.”

Bo’s face drops, “But _Keeiijiii_.”

Keiji blinks in the mirror, “No,” and grabs his purse and leaves to go get in the car that’s been waiting for at least fifteen minutes.

“But aKaashi-!”

“No.”

He doesn’t get as many looks as he’d expected and he doesn’t know it if it’s concerning or not. It’s put on the back burner when he’d roped into a conversation with Semi Eita and Kenma. The latter doesn’t say much as usual but Eita’s got a nervous energy about him. The red haired Beta, Tendou, isn’t in attendance and Keiji spots Bo and Kuroo with the Shiratorizawa Alpha having what looked like an unusually serious conversation for these sorts of events. Ushijima is tense and a little out of sorts. Keiji can’t decide if it’s because of the topic or because the Beta’s not around. It ends up not mattering much in the end. Kenma said very little that was useful and Eita knew nothing.

Bo doesn’t say much either though he seems lost in thought alot. It’s a little concerning because it’s just… _not_ Bokuto behavior. He wants to ask but he’s almost afraid of what could possibly be taking up that much brainspace.

He gets his answer one morning while they're getting ready for the day. Bo tosses a suit into the bed, one clearly too small for himself and heads to work on his hair. Keiji’s brows furrows for a moment and then he drops the cashmere he’d _planned_ on wearing for the day and starts putting the suit on. Everything fits like a glove and he’s just fiddling with the cuffs and yellow tie when Bo comes back out. The Alpha freezes, eyeing him, and then he sighs with a sense of resignation and pride. He holds Keiji’s pistol out to him and Keiji tucks into the holster under his arm. A final nod and Bo leads the way out of their rooms.

Keiji finds himself in a meeting with Fukurodani executives. He feels woefully unprepared for this but Bo had handed him a packet of notes from the last few meetings so he ends up only slightly underprepared. He’d winced over the lost profits from intercepted product and the number of men lost. Washio’s second was among the newer names. The problem is there doesn’t seem to be a concensious on how to handle the Miya twins.

“We can’t rush in there,” Anahori says for the _fourth_ time.

“Why not?” Konoha stress-smokes through _another_ cigarette.

“On top of _literally_ everything **else** we’ve talked about?”

“Calm down,” Komi gestures to placate, “We’re not arguing with you. We’re not seeing a better way.”

“Can’t think of a better way than to just go in their fucking casino and blow the place up?!”

“Could be fun,” Bo grinned, “And we’d take out a good chunk of their assets.”

“Or we could leave their assets alone and just go for the twins.”

“Why?” Bo asked, “They’ve cost us so much money that it’d be only fair to take some of theirs. Torch the place and get rid of all of it. We’ll get them when they have no place to hide.”

“They don’t really _leave_ the place,” Sarukui comments, “You see Kita more than them and Suna’s fucking everywhere. I swear the man teleports.”

“Neither of them are our concern,” Washio says, “It’s the twins and they don’t leave their hideout which gives us very little in the way of options to take care of them. We haven’t even been able to get inside to see what their setup is to know if something like a full-blown assault is feasible.”

“Anything’s _feasible_ with enough firepower,” Konoha snarks and scratches his forehead, “I’m just tired of burying my guys alright? If this goes on for much longer, I won’t have anybody who’s been around for more than six months. We can’t survive like that. _Fukurodani_ can’t survive like that.”

“‘Kaashi… what do you think?”

 _Fuuuck_.

Keiji took a moment to filter everything he’d read and heard in the last hour, “It’s unwise to let them run rampant.”

Bo grins, “There see-”

“However,” he cut him off and the room stilled, waiting for some reaction from Bokuto.

“However?”

“We should practice caution. We don’t know their numbers or their complete skill sets. As Washio pointed out, we haven’t had a successful infiltration of the casino yet either so to simply attack them is ill-advised. Some retconning would be wise to get a better idea of how the foxes work. Perhaps finding a few people who already frequent the place would give us an idea on the inside. Or maybe we could reach out to our Miyagi friends. They would have faces the twins wouldn’t be looking for,” he flips through the names again, the phrase _not even able to get inside_ rolling around his head, “If none of that works.. Then we send in a man knowing he won’t be coming out. We strap him down with cameras and microphones, pick up as much as we can before they get to him.”

Another beat of silence, some shifting around as the others waiting for Bokuto to erupt at being interrupted.

“Well?” the mob boss quirked a brow, “You heard him. Get on with it.”

The rest look between themselves in confusion. Washio stands, buttoning his suit jacket, and leaves, already on the phone with whoever his new second is. Konoha follows his example and the rest are moving without further question.

Bokuto leans back in his chair with a lazy grin, “So… how’s it feel?”

Keiji cocks a brow, “Feel?”

“To give orders to an army. The _entire_ syndicate is under your control and the only one you have to answer to is _me_ … You, Akaashi Keiji, are a queen.”

Keiji lets that sink in for a moment, stares at the table where Fukurodani Executives had just sat a few minutes ago… those same Executives who took his thoughts and left to make them happen.

It’s a powerful feeling honestly…

He glances back at the Alpha at the head of the table, the one with large gold eyes and ridiculous spiked hair… The one who’s just as capable of shooting a man as he is whining Keiji’s name because, no, they can’t fuck in the hotel elevator.

Even if they own said hotel.

He’s a child… but he’s also a man…

And Keiji’s ok with watching over said man for the rest of his life.

“I like it.”

The grin slips into dangerous, “Good.”


End file.
